


take yourself home

by undeliveredtruth



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: (last five apply to only one pairing), And their road to growing up and debuting, Canon, Dom/sub Undertones, Exploration, Friends With Benefits, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, POV Multiple, Requited Unrequited Love, Secret Relationship, Self-indulgent exploration of how I see Ateez dynamics, Sex as Slightly Unhealthy Coping Mechanism, Sexual Content, Slice of Life, The pairings will feature fairly equally, and Getting Together, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:00:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23637190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undeliveredtruth/pseuds/undeliveredtruth
Summary: There is no doubt that this is fate. Eight lives closely intertwined, coming together in synergy to form a greater whole. But that doesn’t mean that it’s not hard - exploration can lead to heartbreak, and things have to be broken before something can be born.Or: ATEEZ go through the difficult journey of trying to figure each other out, romantically and otherwise.
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Jeong Yunho/Kim Hongjoong, Kang Yeosang/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 32
Kudos: 73





	1. if I'm gonna die, let's die somewhere pretty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! This is the most self-indulgent fic ever, because I love ATEEZ' dynamics and I want to explore their canon potential more across a couple of different pairings. 
> 
> So I probably won’t have very constant updates but I will update, and this will be more an exploration of dynamics than anything else, so expect drawn-out scenes, a lot of fluff, a lot of angst, and…. a lot of explicit scenes let’s not lie to ourselves.
> 
> Also, as I said in the tags, the POVs will switch and pairings will feature more or less equally but at different points, so some parts and chapters might be slightly more character-centric to one person. This is more a collection of scenes than anything else, but I will try to keep some sort of coherence and as much as I can, stay appropriate to the little bit of timeline I know.
> 
> IMPORTANT: This will feature mentions of underage sexual content (those scenes will not be explicit, and will just be mentioned.) 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy this and I’d actually love to take suggestions on scenes or ideas that you might want to see! This is very much not written out, so I’m excited to hear your thoughts! Enjoy! <3

The first time Wooyoung kisses a girl, he’s 14 and teenagers are mean in that way that they’re just mean. It’s obvious Wooyoung has liked her for weeks now but didn’t bother hiding it because he doesn’t see the point. Truth or dare lands the dare on Wooyoung but she is the one to lean over and kiss him on the lips. Wooyoung puckers up to meet her halfway and then some. When she pulls away, there’s surprise in her eyes and it reflects in the wolf whistles of people around them. 

Wooyoung’s ears ting a little pink but his shaggy hair covers any possible trace of embarrassment. He won’t let them make a fool out of him. He smirks and lays back on his hands, and it’s the girl who ends up looking flustered. 

Wooyoung gains clout.

The first time he kisses a boy, he’s 16 and in his first year of high school. 10 PM and the hagwon lets out with hoards of exhausted teenagers piling out with the knowledge that they’ll have more to study when they get home, but Wooyoung knows he’s going to start training soon, has known it as fact for a while, so he doesn’t care too much about school. So he always goes to the bathroom, stops at the convenience store next door for ramen and a microwaved sausage, and takes the long walk back home. 

This time though, when he leaves the convenience store, a hand wraps around his wrist and Wooyoung turns just enough for one of his classmates to move closer and land a hesitant kiss on his cheek. 

Wooyoung smirks, asks for consent, and then pulls the boy by his hand to a corner of the dark back alley, hidden by an emergency fire staircase and piled up boxes from the restaurant next door. He knows where it is because he's spent many evenings here when he didn't want to go home, earphones stuck in his ears and moves smoothly flowing from his limbs.

The boy muffles his moans in Wooyoung’s mouth when Wooyoung gets a hand down his pants, crowding him against the wall, and Wooyoung gets his first blowjob in return when all the faraway lights of the street turn back down. They're both inexperienced, both clumsy; Wooyoung tugs too hard and the boy doesn't quite know how to put his lips over his teeth. Even so, Wooyoung doesn’t dare make a sound.

When he tells his friends, careful to not reveal anything about the boy, all he gets are high fives. Because Wooyoung has clout, and he’s never been afraid to be himself. 

He meets Yeosang a few months after, when he leaves home and takes the biggest gamble of his life. Compared to him, Yeosang is cold. Unapproachable. 

Or maybe even shy.

It’s a bit later, after he befriends Yeosang, when he realizes none of those things are completely right. Yeosang’s not shy, he’s just selective with where he puts his efforts, he thinks to himself as Yeosang's voice breaks when he tries to sing their practice song while performing, and he picks himself right back up after. Frustration seeps out of him in waves. Wooyoung is sure he can’t even see himself because the mirrors are fogged. His back is scrunched up, his shoulders tensing somewhere in the vicinity of his ears. His posture’s all wrong. Despite how Wooyoung can’t see his face, he’d bet Yeosang’s teeth are gritted. A drop of sweat drips by the corner of Wooyoung’s eye and down his jaw.

“Yeosang-ah. Rest a lil’.” 

They’re not debuting anytime soon, not with the new group. Not both of them. Not together. Wooyoung has a chance if he proves he can be a capable lead dancer, but Yeosang surely doesn't. Knowing it doesn’t make hearing it said to their face hurt any less.

That night, in Wooyoung’s bed, as two more trainees with fates as bleak as theirs snore in the cramped room, Yeosang grips Wooyoung’s ratty pajama shirt and cries, silent tears staining Wooyoung’s shirt. The material sticks to his skin, Wooyoung’s hands wrapping around Yeosang doing little to comfort him.

"It'll work, yeah? We'll debut together. We promised we'd be on the same stage, have concerts abroad. It'll work," Wooyoung reassures Yeosang, and wonders who it is that he's really reassuring. Is it Yeosang or is it himself?

Yeosang leaves the morning after and doesn’t come back for two days. When he does, he looks out of place in the practice room that had been home away from home for the two of them for years now. 

“I quit.”

The fear paralyzes Wooyoung, raises in his throat and _hurts._ It seems like pain is all they're receiving lately. Nothing, not even the prospect of success seems tangible anymore. Real life can’t stop hurting them.

“I quit BigHit. I’m moving agencies. There’s this new agency called KQ, and they’ve taken me.” 

Oh. Yeosang is not quitting for good. He's just leaving BigHit. 

“I just...”

It makes sense. Yeosang isn't shy. Yeosang has always been determined, strong, passionate. He always had drive in his blood that pushed him forward anytime, anyhow, under any circumstances. Yeosang might look cold, but he's just guarded, and it takes him much further than being open would ever take him.

Yeosang never takes a no as a no if he can do something about it.

“Before I go… I wanted to tell you something. About us. I..."

Wooyoung worries his bottom lip into his mouth and bites into old scars on the inside of it that had barely healed. No. 

“Yeosang-ah. Please don’t say it.”

He knows. He’s known it since Yeosang refused to shower with him, from 4 AM whispered words in pillows with Wooyoung’s hand draped around Yeosang and Yeosang thinking he was asleep. Because of the way Yeosang, so tightly guarded, seems so willing to let go with him because he trusts Wooyoung to catch him.

But Wooyoung is nothing but terrified. They’re in no position to catch each other no matter how Wooyoung might want to fall too. As honest as Wooyoung is and as much as in his head Yeosang is, when it comes to this, Wooyoung can’t let Yeosang be open now.

Yeosang clamps his mouth tight and nods, understanding.

“Goodbye, Wooyoung.” 

And so, barely two weeks later, trailing behind an employee that looks beyond exhausted, Wooyoung pads unfamiliar halls in sweatpants and dirty white Vans that push street fashion and reach more towards actually disgusting. Except they had been a present from Yeosang, and Wooyoung feels life is slightly more manageable when he wears them. 

The employee leads him to enter a room, closes the door, and 7 pairs of eyes immediately snap to him. Out of all of them, Wooyoung notices Yeosang’s first, and feels less like he's stepping into the lion's den.

“Good evening,” he introduces himself formally, a 90-degree bow he feels in his sore back accompanying his words. “My name is Wooyoung.” 

“Hello,” one boy says, and Wooyoung’s eyes go to him with a small, polite smile. “I’m Hongjoong. It’s nice to meet you. These are Yunho, Seonghwa, Mingi, San, Jongho, and…”

“Wooyoung,” Yeosang’s voice echoes even in the small space. It’s smaller than BigHit’s studio, smaller by far. There are cracks in the walls and the floor looks worn out. The mirror doesn't reach all the way to the end of the wall.

“Oh. You two know each other?” Someone says from somewhere in the room. 

“Ah, yeah,” Wooyoung grins, scratches his head. “We trained together at BigHit for a year and something.” 

4 hours later, Wooyoung has the choreography they’re working on down pat. Yunho is a crazy good dancer but none of them fall too far behind; they all have drive and motivation shining in their eyes, and Wooyoung gets that rush of excitement in his veins that he hasn’t experienced for way too long. The stretch of time he knew nothing about debut was too long, long enough to make him rethink his dreams, something that he never did, just because everything seemed further and further out of reach. But together with them... Wooyoung can maybe see quite far ahead.

They all are great dancers, and there must be great singers and rappers too. All of them... except one.

Wooyoung watches him through the mirror, sees him stumble in a corner of the room, eyes more determined than anyone else, and yet his moves fall short. He doesn’t have any preciseness in how he hits beats, flails his arms too much, and he looks so tiny Wooyoung is afraid he’ll break his ankles when he lands jumps with hesitation, like he's sure he’ll land them wrong. He's flexible, but that seems to be about it. Yunho notices, because Wooyoung’s an open book and a high-class asshole.

“Ah, don’t mind Sannie. He works the hardest, he’ll catch up.”

Wooyoung’s blush darkens his ears. “Oh no, I didn’t mean...” But it’s pointless, because he _did._

The boys help Wooyoung drag the ratty suitcases into their dorm. Compared to the state of the training room, this is much, much better than he expected. They have a large living room, a large kitchen, and even the rooms themselves are huge. Three of them.

"This is your dorm? For real?" 

The boy who Wooyoung now knows as Hongjoong nods good-naturedly, entertained by Wooyoung's shock. 

"Yeah."

"For real?"

"Yup. We might move, but you can room with Yeosang and Jongho for now, there is an extra bed in their room," Hongjoong nods to the boy who Wooyoung knows is the maknae, although he doesn't look like it by far. 

Rooming with Yeosang means he needs to talk to Yeosang. And even with all the excitement of being back together, this time with the very real, very tangible possibility of debut... their unresolved issues remain heavy on Wooyoung's shoulders. 

And Yeosang seems to be nothing but willing to talk. Jongho doesn't even have to be in the room for two seconds to recognize it is a situation he should extract himself from, if the speed he changes and leaves the room is anything to go by.

Wooyoung makes himself busy by unpacking his skincare routine. Yeosang doesn't care, dropping down on the bed Wooyoung assumes is his, his gaze digging into Wooyoung's back. 

"Wooyoung." His tone is firm. There's no avoiding this. 

Wooyoung turns and sits on the floor, his back to the drawer. Yeosang's eyes are fixed on his. 

"Don't you wanna shower first?"

"Why did you come?"

A sigh leaves Wooyoung. 

"Would you rather I stayed there?"

"No, but why did you come? You had a chance there." Yeosang asks, like it's not obvious. Like the answer isn't clear as day. 

"Because of you." 

Yeosang stays quiet. Wooyoung's gaze fixes on the birthmark next to his left eye and moves back to Yeosang's unmoving eyes on him.

"We made a promise, didn't we? If I am to fail, I want to fail with you. If I am to succeed, I want to succeed with you." Yeosang looks at him like he almost doesn't want to believe him. "Otherwise, it's meaningless."

The heady feeling of change is tangible in the air. When he made his decision, Wooyoung knew how heavy it would be, that it would mean a lot to pursue this dream next to Yeosang. But after all, he trusts Yeosang, trusts that whatever place he joined would be a good place for him. 

And so, he's sure it will be a good one for Wooyoung too. 

Yeosang doesn't seem to want to answer, or there's maybe nothing to say. Wooyoung put his cards on the table anyway.

"Tell me more about them."

"Uhm... they're all nice." 

"Are they any good?" Wooyoung jokes, although he's already seen their potential. 

"They are," Yeosang nods with certainty. "Uhm, I can tell you about them if you want."

"Sure," Wooyoung smiles, excited. "Tell me." 

"Seonghwa-hyung's the oldest. He's a vocalist I think, he was in a band in high school. He's really cool I guess. A bit... hmm."

"Unapproachable?" Wooyoung tries to fill in. That's the vibe he got from him. 

"Maybe. I don't know. Not really?" 

"Mm," Wooyoung nods in agreement. Interesting. 

"And then there's Hongjoong-hyung. He's really talented. He's been here the longest, and he makes the songs, this producer in the agency's helping him. He's already made some really good ones. Rumor is he's gonna be the leader if..."

"If we debut?"

"Yeah. He's really nice. He's been really helpful," Yeosang nods. "And then the second one here was Yunho. He's '99 too, a really good dancer. I think he's nice. He's really nice to everyone. I don't think it's fake." 

Wooyoung doesn't think so either. Yunho accepted him so readily, so easily today, that Wooyoung couldn't help already think the world of him. 

"And then it's me. I'm younger here, but still on the older side. And then there's San." 

Wooyoung's mind conjures images from the training room. San hadn't even come home with them, stayed behind with Yunho to practice. So Wooyoung is curious, can't help but be, of who the boy who's so determined and yet...

"San is..." Yeosang pauses, hums under his breath, rearranges his legs. "To be honest with you, I haven't gotten a hang of him yet."

"Really? I'm shocked." That's so interesting. Yeosang's always had a knack for people, it surprises Wooyoung there's someone he doesn't seem to know.

"I know. I don't know, really. He works hard and pushes himself a lot. I think he's a bit insecure, but he really works hard. He's friendly though. A bit sensitive?"

"Mm," Wooyoung nods, fingers tapping on his ankle. He's definitely an interesting character. 

"And then there's the maknae, Jongho. He's more maknae-like than you'd think, but he's really calm, really mature for his age." 

"Who are you attached to?" 

Yeosang's eyes widen like the question took him by surprise, his thumbnail immediately in his mouth. 

"Yeosang-ah," Wooyoung berates him. He's been tasked with getting Yeosang out of his bad habits since what seems like years ago, like Yeosang does to him as well. 

Yeosang immediately drops his hand, playing with the seam of his jeans instead. "I don't know. Nobody yet?"

"Nobody?" 

"Mm, not really. I'm trying." 

Wooyoung stops pushing. He's not afraid Yeosang won't make friends anymore. He's probably better at it than Wooyoung now.

"Do you think it'll work out?" The question falls from Wooyoung's mouth, and he's not surprised to hear the hesitant tone on his lips. He tried to hold it back, but it would be pointless with Yeosang anyway. 

"I think it might." 

Wooyoung wakes up at 5 AM. There's no time to slack off, not when it's been weeks now that he's been out of practice, and this company won't be pushovers. He needs to work hard now, harder than he's ever worked.

The code to the practice room was texted to his Kakao, and Wooyoung is just about ready to take his phone out around the corner when he hears music coming in from within the practice room. 

Other people would leave, but other people are not Wooyoung. So he opens the door and his eyes immediately land on the boy in front of the mirror who turns to him with a shocked expression.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know there was someone else here," Wooyoung volunteers, but steps into the room nonetheless. "Is it okay if I come in?"

"Mm," San nods shortly with his lips slightly pursed, like in a pout. Wooyoung drops his bag next to the wall opposite the mirror while the other boy turns the song off completely. 

"I'm sorry. Didn't mean to barge."

"That's okay. I was just surprised because no one usually comes this early."

 _Why are you here so early?_ Wooyoung wants to ask, especially as he knows San stayed back last night too. But then he remembers Yunho mentioning yesterday that San works harder than all of them, and gets it. 

"I'm sorry you got to see me like that yesterday," San starts with a hand scratching his hair and his eyes to the floor. "I guess it wasn't the best first impression. I'm not a really good dancer. Not a good one at all, actually."

"No," Wooyoung quickly shakes his head, trying to not make the situation worse, his words quickening. "I didn't think that at all." 

It's bullshit, because again, Wooyoung is an asshole. But San's face lights up like Wooyoung gave him the best news of his life, his eyes scrunching, and Wooyoung feels his heart drop.

 _Oh god._ He really is an asshole.

"Wanna practice it with me then? I feel like I have it down finally."

"Sure," Wooyoung nods, stands in the front of mirror and waits for San to start the song. 

His body hasn't had enough time to develop muscle memory for the choreography yet, so he runs over the first few counts in his head, to at least know where to start. He doesn't really remember more than the first four, but he gets ready anyway. 

And then the song starts, and it turns out he doesn't need to remember more than the first count because after that he catches San's dancing in the mirror and freezes. 

The difference is striking. 

In just a day, San cleaned up his moves like nobody's business. Wooyoung can now see even more clearly the benefits of his flexibility he noticed before; his flailing still exists but it's way more controlled, almost like it's getting to be purposeful.

"Woah," a noise slips past his lips when San is done, and Wooyoung just stays frozen in place like an idiot. 

"I didn't want you to stay with that impression," San comes back and says in a high-pitched, happy-sounding tone that takes Wooyoung even further by surprise. "I'm not a good dancer, but I try my best and want to improve." 

Wooyoung blushes out of embarrassment. So it was obvious. "I... Did you stay late to practice because of me?"

"Mhm," San says, again in that voice, with a quick nod of his head. "We also have to present it in a few days. But I wanted you to feel like we are all good. That you didn't waste your time by coming here." 

Strangely, Wooyoung is starting to feel more and more absent, like he's lost grasp of this situation a while before he even stepped into it.

"How...?"

"Yeosangie told us a lot about you. And the agency let us know that someone from a big agency was coming a while ago." San's expression switches, his expression turning serious, but just a little. "We all work hard. We all want to make it more than anything." 

"I... I'm sorry." Wooyoung counters, his ears burning. He's terribly embarrassed because he never thought this would be _him,_ judging someone by their cover. The one who was always judged himself. "I shouldn't have judged you."

"That's fine! I'm not a good dancer. It was fair of you to judge. I don't mind!" He smiles again, his dimples on show, all excited, and Wooyoung finds himself smiling despite himself. "Wanna have breakfast with me?" 

When San drags him by the wrist to the small but modern cafeteria with the promise of nothing more than instant ramen, Wooyoung can't help but think that San is one of those people with many, many layers - and it will take a while to figure them all out. 

Barely a week later, there is something in Wooyoung that doesn't let him sit still. Yeosang notices, and forces Wooyoung into their room after dinner. Wooyoung is grateful for all the privacy they seem to be receiving, something quite rare for trainee life. 

Wooyoung takes a deep breath, messing with the hem of his shirt, pulling at it. It's not an easy topic to breach.

“About what I said before you left... I’m sorry. I regret it a lot. It was dumb.”

Yeosang looks like he didn't expect Wooyoung to bring this up again, and almost doesn't believe he really is.

“It wasn’t dumb. I was scared, and you were scared too. I think that just looked different for you and me.” 

When Yeosang was scared to lose him, he came out with the thing that had the most weight in the hope it would keep them connected. When Wooyoung was scared to lose him, that confession would have meant closure, and he couldn’t let it come out. 

“I... Sangie.”

Wooyoung would like to say it now. Now that they have nothing to lose anymore, and only to gain. 

But for some reason, something gets stuck in his throat and blocks the path. Whatever emotions swirl in his head, the almost physical weight that connects him to the boy in front of him looking at him with the little bit hope in his eyes Wooyoung hadn’t yet squashed... doesn’t turn into words. 

_I like you too._

“Yeosangie...”

He likes Yeosang. He likes him a lot, but he can’t... _He can’t._

 _“Dinner’s ready!”_ comes from somewhere outside their room. 

Wordlessly, Yeosang gets up and closes the door on his way out, leaving Wooyoung with his head dropped on his knees and tears swimming in the corner of his eyes. 

The next day, even these people that don’t know him that well can tell he’s distracted. Yunho corners him during one break in practice and hands him his own water bottle, as Wooyoung forgot his. 

“Hey. I know we haven’t known each other for that long, but if something’s bothering you, you can tell us, alright? We’re family now.” 

“Thank you,” Wooyoung answers, fiddling with the cap of the water bottle, his eyes to the ground. 

He doesn’t think he can tell anyone else about this. One, because he doesn’t know what they think about, well... 

And two, he would never do that to Yeosang. 

“I’m okay. It’ll be okay soon,” he smiles at Yunho, who pats him on the shoulder and pulls him up from the ground with a hand in his. 

Practice goes, to say the least, terribly for Wooyoung. He's uncoordinated, not sharp at all, makes stupid mistakes like stumbling on his steps, and even knocks into Seonghwa once. At the end, he feels awful, doesn't think he deserves to go hone.

“I’m okay. I’ll just stay over to practice a little more,” he tells the others, who leave with encouraging smiles and pats to his shoulder. Privacy as a trainee is extremely rare, so Wooyoung appreciates they don’t ask. 

Yeosang doesn’t spare him a glance. Wooyoung doesn’t blame him. 

Except when they leave, he notices there is still one bag in the corner of the room. Two seconds after, San comes back in. 

Wooyoung follows him with his eyes until San turns to him. 

“I usually stay over to practice during the weekend,” he explains. “But if you want to stay, I can go.” 

“No. That’s fine,” Wooyoung nods, taking a seat on the floor. He doesn’t really feel like dancing anymore anyway.

San runs through the choreography a few more times, emphasizing the parts he has issues with. His balance is off and his movements too wide, very on the side of overdanced, Wooyoung notices. His flexibility is playing against him; he lacks body control and confidence in his movements.

But he keeps to himself, just watching San trying to figure out the right angle for a knee move. He could even call it relaxing.

Soon enough, San gets visibly tired, and plops down next to Wooyoung on the ground, resting on the wall. Panting from exertion, he opens his water bottle and takes a huge swig. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He asks in a soft voice, tone full of satoori.

And Wooyoung breaks. All of a sudden, there are tears running down his face and a knot in his throat, and he’s ugly sniffling, futilely trying to use his sweater sleeves to wipe his tears. 

“Oh,” San lets out a small noise, putting a hesitant hand on Wooyoung’s right elbow. 

_“Fuck_ , I’m sorry, I don’t know what...” Wooyoung whispers, furiously wiping at his eyes. 

“It’s okay,” San shakes his head. “Can I give you a hug?” 

Wooyoung turns his head to him, probably looking more pitiful than he’s ever looked with tears and snot running down his face, and nods. 

San carefully pulls him into a tight hug, warm and comforting. He’s a good hugger, a very good one, and Wooyoung feels bad for how San’s thin shirt is all of a sudden soaked in Wooyoung’s tears. 

San hugs him for a long while, until Wooyoung’s sobs have slightly calmed down and he pulls back, running his sleeve over his sensitive eyes. 

“I’m sorry...”

“Don’t worry, I cry in this room practically every day. If you weren’t going to start crying, I probably would have in the next two minutes," San says with a grin. Despite himself, Wooyoung lets out a small laugh at his honesty.

“Thank you. I...” he starts, and San keeps silent, waiting for him to continue. “You’re all great, but between the moving to a new company, and some stuff happening, and getting used to everything...” 

“It’s not easy,” San nods. “But you’re shouldering through everything so well.” 

“I... don’t know if I am,” Wooyoung lets out an insecure laugh, wrapping his arms around his knees. “I think... I hurt one of the most important people in my life irrevocably bad.” 

“Oh,” San says, an exclamation of surprise. “Someone... you were dating?” There’s a touch of curiosity there, but Wooyoung doesn't blame him. This is important stuff to know if you'll be together in a group. 

“No,” Wooyoung shakes his head. “Or... I guess no because of me.” 

Wooyoung sees San nod from the corner of his eye. Maybe he’s said too much. 

“This isn’t an easy life we chose, right?” San asks in a lower tone, the lull of his satoori somehow comforting to Wooyoung’s ears. “If you messed up... I’m sure you had reasons why. Can you explain it to them?” 

“I... don’t know the reasons, really. I just... I just can’t say what I feel. I feel I fuck up every time I’m in front of him.”

“Do you... like him?” 

“I don’t know. I feel like I do, but every time I try to say it... it won’t come out. Something’s stopping it.” 

“Hmm... Are you scared?”

 _That,_ that simple question touches Wooyoung somewhere he can’t explain, hurts somewhere _deep._

_“I’m so scared.”_

A fresh wave of tears falls. He buries his head in his knees, and feels the comfort of San’s hand on his back. 

He has to talk to Yeosang. He has to. 

“Yeosangie, can we talk?” He asks when he gets home with San later that evening. He ignores how something in him tells him he’s making it obvious to San. 

Fuck it. Right now, he needs to talk to Yeosang.

Surprisingly, Yeosang follows him to their room and closes the door behind him, taking his spot on his bed. Wooyoung takes the same spot on the ground, resting with his back to the dresser. 

“I... I’m gonna say what I feel, okay?” Wooyoung takes a deep breath. These are things he's kept inside for years now, and despite his openness, how he doesn't believe in secrets... Yeosang's in front of him, and Wooyoung cares about him a lot.

“When you came to BigHit, I really didn’t like you much. I tend to do that at the beginning, you know that. You were pretty and cool and even the trainers admired you right away despite how hard I had to work for them to even spare me a glance. 

You know how much that lasted? Like maybe three days. Because then after you couldn't answer when one of the trainers asked you something and you blushed, and you kept blushing until you came home, and I couldn’t stop watching you. I really wanted to give you a hug right then.

It took me how long, like six months? To annoy you into being my friend? I never had to work that long to befriend someone _ever_. But... now you are my best friend,” Wooyoung continues, worrying his lip into his mouth. “You know everything about me, and I would like to think I know everything about you. I’d like to think we’ll be friends forever. We certainly have to debut together.” 

Yeosang isn’t looking at him. Wooyoung pauses and takes a deep breath. 

“I like you.” 

Yeosang’s eyes snap up to his. 

“I do. I really do. I thought a lot before on how it would be to hold your hand when we went to get ice cream, or how nice you looked when you woke up, or why I felt my chest burn in practice when I watched you do well.”

There’s no more hope in Yeosang’s eyes despite Wooyoung’s words. Because it's clearer than ever the but is coming. 

“But... I don’t think I’m ready for this right now. I don’t know when I’ll ever be. I don’t know if I'll ever be. And... I know it’s stupid to think like this, and it could be, really... but I don’t think it’s going to end well. Whether we debut or not, the pressure and everything... I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it and still give you what you deserve. I’m too immature for that, and I want to keep having you in my life. I’m sorry.”

If this wasn’t the career they chose, Wooyoung would find it easy to take Yeosang out and kiss him on the street, hold his hand strolling in the park, make out with him at the movies. Those aren’t things he’d have an issue with.

But having to keep everything secret, considering every move so nothing gets out, so they’re the right balance between close and not close enough... Wooyoung doesn’t think he can take the pressure. That _they_ can take the pressure. 

There’s too much between them already, too close of a bond. If they lived a private life where no one cared, maybe it would’ve been easy to manage. But like this...

“I get it,” Yeosang speaks up for the first time, nodding. He’s strong, way stronger than Wooyoung. “I really do. I think the same way, and I've thought the same way from the beginning. I never expected anything from you, and I never thought anything would happen.”

“Are... are you sure? The last thing I want to do is to hurt you.” 

“Of course,” Yeosang nods. “That’s why I left, and in a way, I knew you’d come too. Because we put debuting above everything else, right?”

Yeosang is indeed a better person than him, the first one between the two of them to be able to see the hard but necessary way out of things.

“I... the feelings won’t go away,” Wooyoung carefully warns. It will be _hard._

“They won’t. But... we’ve known for a while, right? I guess now we can both move on.” 

Wooyoung nods. He guesses that’s true. “Hey. You know you’re still the most important person to me, right?” Wooyoung says with certainty. Out of all things, that won’t change.

Yeosang nods. “I do. Same.”

Nothing has to change, he thinks as he tightly hugs Yeosang, finding the same level of comfort in him that he did before all of this. Nothing has to change.

And even so, he finds it hard to fall asleep. At 4 AM, when he walks out into the living room to browse his phone and just _be_ somewhere but his bed, he finds San on the couch, just sitting there. 

“Oh _fuck,_ you scared me,” he lets out a whispered curse, and San’s eyes turn to him. 

“Hi.”

“Sorry... didn’t mean to bother you.”

“No, it’s fine. I come out here sometimes to think.”

San doesn’t seem to sleep too much, Wooyoung noticed. Between late night and early morning practices, San is always doing something, always moving. So Wooyoung is not surprised he’s the one he finds out here, awake in the darkest hour of the night.

Hesitantly, he takes a seat next to San at the other end of the couch. 

“Did you figure it out?” San asks. 

Wooyoung looks up. San doesn’t look like he’s judging him in any sort of way. 

“We did. Sorry... sorry.”

“For what?”

“For the fact that it kinda seems like we came here as the assholes from a bigger company and brought with us a career-destroying issue which could potentially ruin your chances to debut,” Wooyoung comes right out and says it. No point in denying it.

“You didn’t. It’s not our business.”

“Well...”

“Okay, maybe it is kind of our business. But no one thinks you’re assholes.”

“I promise you we’re not. We want to debut as much as you all do, and we’re going to make sure that happens. And that we will do nothing to screw it up.”

“You don’t need to justify yourself to me,” San says, plain and out there, like it’s a simple truth. “You don’t need to justify yourself to anyone. But I can... I guess I can tell you’re not going to date then?”

“We’re not. We… care too much about each other and our dreams to.” 

San nods, like deeply in thought. “I wouldn’t have done that.”

Wooyoung’s eyebrows raise. 

“You’re pretty strong to make a decision like that. I don’t know if I could have ever done it, to be honest with you.”

Wooyoung keeps silently looking at San, this boy that is, honestly, quite strange. Who Wooyoung definitely can’t figure out. Who during the day is cuter and more smiley than anyone else, but who also works harder than any of them. Who clearly cares so much, but who Wooyoung can also find at 4 AM on the couch with a blank expression and way-too-honest words on his lips even when topics like this are being discussed.

“Why... why are you so nice to me?” Wooyoung asks, beyond confused.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re so nice to me. I acted like an asshole the first time I met you, but you’re so nice to me. And so non-judgmental. It’s honestly kinda...”

“Weird? I’ve had people say that to me before.”

“No, not weird,” Wooyoung determinedly shakes his head. How many people have called San weird for him to be so blasé? “Just… I feel awful.”

“Don’t. You’re cool. We all find you awesome, and I do as well. I don’t really bother disliking people or holding grudges,” San explains, tucking his legs under himself. “Especially since I know how I come off to people. You don’t find me annoying, right? Or completely talentless? Or worthless of where I am and even the sheer possibility of debut?”

“No, I really don’t," Wooyoung asks with wide eyes from the harshness of San's words.

“Then see? Why would I not be nice to you?”

Wooyoung swallows. “Okay... I guess. I guess that makes sense.”

“Friends?” San suddenly extends a hand to him, and Wooyoung takes it with determination. 

“Friends.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on twt or curiouscat @bbysvts if you wanna rant about this or ateez in general!! I'd love to hear what you think! <3


	2. city needs a mother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, welcome back to whatever this is! Thank you for coming back to this, I hope it's somehow enjoyable despite my utter inability to write Yunho in any way, shape, or form - I promise I'm trying to get better.
> 
> For this chapter, I used [these](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0E6IUIAAiww) [three](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c1Z_nwMa2Rg) [videos](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yh6dOrGfpZo) so thank you so much to whoever made them and subbed them because there's no way in hell I was ever going to watch mixnine despite the many amazing trainees in it. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this, and let me know what you think! As always, find me @bbysvts on twitter or curiouscat if you wanna chat, I'd be so happy to see thoughts on this or anything else. <3

The only time Yunho ever really failed a class project was in his seventh-grade household education class, with that project that always came up in the teenage movies he watched as a child.

When he got the fake baby, quite realistic cry, diapers, feeding bottle and all, he didn’t really feel much different from how another class assignment would feel. But over the next six days, he grew to be quite attached to the plastic model he found strangely really resembled his younger brother as a baby, from the vague memories he had, and it mattered to him to at least give the thing back in one piece.

Which didn’t happen. Because at 10 PM the night before the assignment was due, he forgot he brought the baby into the bathroom with him, and when he wanted to get the towel, he pulled it from under the baby and the thing fell on its head from quite high on the tiled floor.

The baby didn’t cry.

“It’s dead, Yunho,” the teacher had said with a disappointed look, and Yunho walked back to his seat, head down and ashamed, and hated the feeling of irresponsibility that settled in his chest.

It was not like that one little thing changed his life. But his mom and dad had always praised Yunho for his responsibility, for his sense of duty, for how well he did at school. It was the only reason they allowed him to dance and let him give up on piano lessons and half of his hagwons, because they _trusted_ him. Trusted him to do well in school and do well in his passion too. Trusted him to never do things halfway, and to excel in whatever he wanted to do, whatever he chose for himself.

His parents were understanding, patting his head as Yunho cried in front of them. But first taste of losing the trust he put _in himself_ left a bitter taste in Yunho’s mouth that he swore he’d never experience again.

Wooyoung quickly becomes a fixture, maybe even sometimes the center, of their little group. Yunho enjoys seeing the little ways in which he grows comfortable alongside them and loses the awkwardness; he’s done that with all the trainees since coming to KQ second, and Wooyoung’s is that he pulls pranks and clings _a lot._

Mingi and he had whispered to Wooyoung a few days after he came, in all secrecy, that San and Hongjoong are really no fun. Wooyoung doesn’t dare touch Hongjoong, because in all fairness Hongjoong is older and quite _scary_ to people who don’t know him (maybe to Yunho too, a little bit, still), so that leaves him San. Mingi, despite his all-too-eager proclamation of Wooyoung as his archnemesis, often joins him in tickle sessions dedicated to San and, if they’re feeling quite brave, Jongho, because that’s the one thing that breaks his shell and gets him squealing, and they enjoy being masochists when Jongho fakes a blank, scary face to them afterward.

Jongho smiles. For a while, Yunho thought of him as the "cold and chic" type, but he thinks that Jongho just needs time. Surprisingly, Jongho was the one to notice when Yunho didn't feel his best one day during practice, and came to him quietly with a bottle of water, a clean towel, and some encouraging words whispered in a low tone. 

Yeosang’s was him adorably sending that ponytail video in their group chat after a few days of barely uttering a few words to them, still clearly shaken up over so many changes coming so quick; Yunho remembered the dance and sang the song to him the next day, drawing a red tint from Yeosang’s ears.

For Seonghwa, the truly cold and chic one, the fact that he melted when San fainted a few days after he came in, and was the first one at his side. The caring side he shows at the dorms in private, the photos he takes of them when they go out, cleaning up after them and not complaining _all the time,_ all their favorite snacks hidden from the manager secretly in his room.

For San, to Yunho, it was how he let go. How he pulled at Yunho’s sleeve one day and asked him to stay back and teach him something, how he started being less shy with his movements and his gestures and his actions and learned to show something to them, the ups and downs of his journey. From the perfectly straight child who came to practice in an ill-fitting suit and rarely spoke because of his thick accent, San smiles way more often nowadays.

For Mingi… well, Yunho had known Mingi for quite a long time, and Mingi made himself comfortable wherever he was, elbowed himself in until he had his own spot. In many ways, he was the only thing that _broke_ the awkwardness that had been there before he came.

When it was just him and Hongjoong.

Yunho isn’t too good at making conversation when he’s with someone older or someone he admires. Hongjoong, despite the bright smile, the lack of height, and the often unexpected exuberant attitude, is both.

Especially nowadays, as the burden of leader, as undecided as it is, lays heavily on his shoulders. It’s like an invisible stone: they themselves can’t know its weight, but Yunho sees Hongjoong’s look change, physically and mentally, as he grows to be someone who might be able to lead them in the future. And to Yunho that's intimidating, to say the least.

“Will you come try to record tonight? Need help for an audio guide,” Hongjoong throws to him after practice, Yunho in the middle of gathering his clothes.

“Uh, sure? I promised Wooyoung and Mingi I was going to run to the 7/11 with them for some ramen now, so… after?”

“Weren’t you going to stay over and practice?”

“Uh…” Yunho mumbles, and Hongjoong shakes his head.

“After works. Come whenever,” Hongjoong says over his shoulder and closes the door to the practice room. Mingi and Wooyoung are waiting in the hall; Wooyoung links his arm in his, and Yunho laughs at his playful imitation of Seonghwa in practice today swiping at Wooyoung for having put salt in his bottle of water.

Wooyoung is barely there for a month solely consisting of unending practice, home, and cheap donkatsu from the restaurant across before they’re sat down in their meeting room and told about MIXNINE. _It’s an opportunity_ , they say. _Now that you’re established as a maybe-group, you’ll get your name known,_ they say. _We trust you’ll win_ \- that at least one of you will win, that is.

Yunho looks at the seven of them after the meeting, practicing hard with the mirrors fogged and the crack in the floor that is getting bigger and bigger, and wonders if it’s worth losing one of them to the fame they might gain. He immediately squashes the thought. For the very little they’ve been together, Yunho can tell that there’s a synergy there that might be hard to see if you’re not, well, part of it. A seven-people team, no matter how well balanced for choreography, doesn’t sound very appealing right now.

Yunho’s never been one for pessimism, but thinking that none of them will win? That’s optimism.

If Yunho suddenly found himself on an empty island, he thinks he could very well live without many things for a while. He would miss fancy food, experiences, going out, but not too much. He might miss his friends a little, and the trainees really, and surely he would miss his family most and need to see them again. But the one thing he surely couldn’t live without is the way music makes him feel when it travels through him, when he allows his body to move to it and _let go_ of the tension that finds itself there.

For that reason, he knows better than to think one failure will put a stop to his journey. There’s no _not good enough,_ no _you’re not at this level,_ no _we just didn’t feel it from you_ that could ever make him uncomfortable or loathe dancing. Quite the opposite; he’s uncomfortable in many other situations, and it’s always dancing and the stage where he feels most at home.

But even so, that doesn’t make it easy to see the clean split between the eight of them. Four on one side, four on the other. Yunho’s on the other side. San trembles slightly next to him and Yunho puts an arm around his shoulders.

“Kim Hongjoong-ssi, Jung Wooyoung-ssi, Choi Jongho-ssi, Song Mingi-ssi, I’ll look forward to seeing you in a couple of weeks. Congratulations.”

They bow politely, dead quiet as the door locks. The cameras are still filming, so they keep quiet. It’s Yunho who initiates the group hug, and also Yunho who whispers a shaky _we’re proud of you_ in the middle of it. They keep silent.

It’s San who finds Yunho on the rooftop of their apartment building, laying on his back and staring at the sky. It’s not like you can see stars in Gwangju way too often either, but Seoul really never has any.

San squeezes on the blanket next to Yunho, joining him in looking up at the sky.

“Is it okay if I talk?”

Yunho nods. “Of course.”

“I feel like I failed because I faked it a lot. Like… the gestures and the lip bites and everything. It felt awkward.”

Yunho lets out a _hmm,_ thinking back on San's audition, the nervousness that rolled off of him in waves. He gets it.

“You don’t need to do that, you know? You don’t need to pretend. It only makes it worse.”

“Really? Then… how? How do I do it?”

“Like… this is how my dance teacher always explained it to me,” Yunho turns on his side, propping his head on his elbow to look at San, his head turned to the side towards Yunho too. “There’s very few people in this world that can also be actors on a stage. When you’re there, your mind should be blank. Your mind needs to stay back and your body needs to take over. So that’s why until then, you work with your mind to ensure that you teach your body the right thing: the right angles, the right measure of steps to take, awareness of the people around you, the impression you want to give. And so when you go on stage, you don’t have to think about the kind of things your face or your arms will show, because your mind will have already worked through it with your body. From there, you need to let your body take over. You shouldn’t need to act feelings. The moment you will really do well is the moment when you know the impression you need to show and they come naturally, when your body knows where to take them from and put them out.”

“So then… like they come from inside you?”

“Yes. Like they come, not like… not like you _make_ them, you know? I think it has a lot to do with confidence. If you’re confident, you never feel like you need to act out anything, because you know that your body knows what to show and from where in order to make it effective. But if you’re not, that path suddenly gets a roadblock, and you start rethinking yourself, and you bring your mind back to where it shouldn’t be. So… practice, to work on teaching your body the right things, and confidence, to teach your body that it’s alright to do as it wishes, to be out there and that it’s worth taking space, are the only two things that can improve a dancer. Less talent and more work. That’s how I’ve always learned it.”

San’s dropped jaw makes Yunho’s ears light on fire, swiftly turning around to his previous position on his back. “I struggle with that most too, so I know how it is.”

“You don’t seem like you’re struggling to me,” San’s meek voice cuts through the air, through the heavy feeling that made it suddenly hard for Yunho to breathe thinking that somehow he said too much, messed up, gone too far. He’s honest, genuinely appreciative, and Yunho doesn’t know how to feel about that comfort settling into him. “You’re always doing so well.”

“I’m not, really. I’m not.”

“But you are,” San’s hand shakes his shoulder, this time San being the one that faces him. “You should see yourself. Your moves are always so clean, and you’re so charismatic. I’m not kidding you, Yunho. I always see you when you dance and my mind just goes... _boom._ I think we all feel like that. Like we’re in _awe.”_

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not kidding. Yunho-ya,” San’s satoori, his protesting whine, couples with the heavy shakes of Yunho’s shoulder. “It just seems like there wasn’t really ever a world where you didn’t know how to dance. Like you’re made for it.”

Yunho lets the unusual feeling settle in a little bit, selfishly. It’s nice to hear. It’s not like he’s ever been _brought down_ for his dancing per se, he _knows_ that he’s worked hard and always tried to improve. But… it’s just hard to remember that sometimes, to allow himself to really _hear it._

“There was. I really wasn’t a good dancer when I started,” an earnest shake of his head will maybe convince San it’s not true. “You can do it, you know?”

“Yeah, but you started like… 10 years ago,” San plops back down on the ground, an audible pout in his tone. “I started four months ago. And it seems like no matter how much I try, it’s worthless.”

“Hey. Don’t do that,” Yunho teases an elbow to San’s side, catching him in the ribs. “The dance you showed Wooyoung, right? Plus the one we did like a week before he came, for the monthly evaluation. Think of those. I don’t think you realize how much you improved in like three months, San-ah.”

“Yeah, but it took me like three weeks each to make them _decent._ Not even good. _Decent.”_

“They were _good,_ not decent. But so what?”

“We won’t have a month to practice _one dance_ every time.”

“But we will. That’s all we’re gonna do, right? Practice,” Yunho locks his hands on his stomach, turning his head to San. “Plus… I don’t think you’re as bad as you think you are. You’re naturally skilled at really listening to the music, you have a sense on how to move to the beat, you have flexibility which you can easily turn into good angles and balance, and… you have that _something._ I think you have a lot of potential, and you know it too.”

“Potential is overrated. I want to be good,” San pouts.

Yunho lets out a laugh, tickling San. “You will be. I’m sure.”

The suitcases are laid out in the hall in a neat line; Hongjoong shouts at the kids to check for essentials. The dorm is quiet, except for him and Jongho playing a game on the TV in the living room. Usually they scream a lot and shout a lot and fight even more, but this time, they keep losing and it’s barely any fun. Jongho is distracted and in all honesty, so is Yunho.

One more lost round after, Yunho puts the controller down. “You should go to sleep, Jongho-ya. You’re leaving early tomorrow.”

“I should. Thank you, hyung. I appreciated it," Jongho puts his controller down and stretches, leaving with a wave of his hand.

“Hey,” Yunho calls out to him, in the middle of putting the controllers and cables back so Seonghwa doesn’t have his ass on a stick tomorrow. “Why don’t you take some games with you?”

Jongho turns around. “They’re yours, hyung, I couldn’t. Plus we probably won’t have too much time.”

“They’re not mine. They’re ours. Take some, and the four of you have a game night sometime to relax, okay?”

After a few seconds of hesitation, Jongho nods. He’s always been good at this, at reading between the lines when his hyungs speak. _Take care and stay together,_ Yunho wants to say, and Jongho understands.

“Thank you, hyung. We will.”

For a strangely hot day in October, the practice room feels freezing cold. With only Seonghwa, Yeosang, San, and him, it feels empty. There’s a whole gap in Yunho’s chest and even if he’s not the oldest, he feels somehow responsible for them now.

“We can take this time to work hard, right?”

There’s a sigh that Yunho thinks comes from San.

“Teach us the basics.” Seonghwa’s determined voice booms through the air, cutting the tension, and Yunho slowly turns to him.

“The basics of…?”

“Dance. Let’s go over the basics. We’ve been here for months now and we haven’t had time to learn properly. So let’s learn. Let’s learn them now, and when they come back from getting our name out, let’s show them we didn’t waste time. You and Yeosang can teach us those, and Sannie can teach us vocals, and we’ll learn.”

Yunho looks at Seonghwa and feels his chest warm from the sheer determination in his eyes. If he could describe it in any way, it almost feels like being _comforted._

“So then, what should we work on today?” Seonghwa lifts up the sleeves of his long shirt, catching them around his elbow. If he stares harder at himself in the mirror, Yunho thinks his reflection will catch fire.

“Isolation? Maybe? We can try that,” San proposes, and from the back, Yunho nods.

“Let’s work on an EXO song then, if you want to focus on isolation,” Yunho suggests, and at the affirmative nods, he plays _Monster._ The groan, probably coming from San, is what makes Yunho smile. “Too hard?”

“No. Let’s do it.” Seonghwa stands in front of the mirror first, and they slowly join him, launching in the choreography. It’s clear to see what’s wrong, especially for San and Seonghwa.

After the first chorus, he turns the song off and plays some other random songs they use to warm up. “Let’s do a warm-up first,” he proposes, standing in front of the mirror. Maybe it won’t hurt to recall what he learned all those years ago. “For isolations, the key part is committing how they feel to your muscle memory. So let’s start with the head. Move it left and right. And focus only on that, on the muscles that you pull trying to move it. Or I guess not pull, just… work. What you’re working.”

He watches San, Seonghwa, and Yeosang follow him in the mirror. They actually are. He’s actually teaching them, and they’re _listening._

“Now up and down.” They follow. “Now connect. One, two, three, and four,” he calls out while moving his own neck, being careful to be aware of the stiffness he feels when he does. “And now instead of that, rotate. Rotate while being aware of… well, I guess how you’re doing it. Focus on the way your body feels.” That’s what Yunho knows best. To focus on how his body feels.

It works. It works, surprisingly, and Yunho feels less and less anxious about having to teach something that they wouldn’t enjoy or fucking up in the middle to them being annoyed. It gets easier and easier to explain after a while, even as the movements get harder. San tries to pop his chest, but he moves his core and his hips at the same time. He watches Yeosang from the corner of his eye talk to Seonghwa about doing it, and he moves to San instead.

“Can I touch you?” He asks San, who nods curiously. Yunho puts his hands on his stomach and on his lower back, holding him in place. “Move your chest now. Push it up, and focus on that, not how you’re pressing against my hands.”

He does, and Yunho keeps the rest of his upper body in place. “Move it to the back now. Slowly, don’t pop it. Now, try doing that a couple of times.” San does. “Now, let’s go left and right. Try to move from your chest and your waist, not your hips.”

Again, San does, and his flexibility lets him do it quite perfectly on the first tries. “See? You’re doing so good. I told you,” Yunho can’t keep the smile off his face, and San really can’t help his either. “Connect them. One, two, three, four,” he repeats, going over the counts on the rhythm of the song, watching as San starts rotating his chest on his own accord. Yunho lets go, keeping the counts, watching in the mirror as Seonghwa and Yeosang are going through the move easily. He’s not surprised, considering their dance background, and even with the lack of formal education for Seonghwa, compared to Yeosang. Maybe going back to the basics is what they all need.

Soon enough it’s almost 10 PM, they’ve worked through most of the body, and he wants to propose they should go home. Thankfully, Seonghwa does it before him so he doesn’t have to, but San pulls at his sleeve. “Yunho-yah, will you stay over more? I kind of want to keep practicing."

Yunho would protest because he’s kind of tired, but a glance at San’s eyes leveled on his tells him he shouldn’t.

“Uh… sure.”

“Great! Seonghwa-hyung, Yeosangie, you should go ahead! We’ll catch up soon!”

Right after the door closes behind them, Yunho’s eyes land on San’s. “What was that about?”

“Nothing, don’t worry.”

“San-ah…”

“Just a feeling. We’ll see later, alright?”

Sunday nights are reserved for watching MIXNINE. Thankfully, their auditions don’t even get shown, but that means they briefly go through the first few episodes without knowing anything about Hongjoong, Jongho, Mingi, and Wooyoung; all they see is a glimpse of Jongho in the theme song. They don’t have phones or means to contact them, so for weeks, they live on the glimpse of Mingi tucking his hair behind his ear in Episode 2, and one of Hongjoong in Episode 3.

He’s wearing a beanie, but the ginger red hair on his head takes all of them by surprise.

“Did hyung dye his hair?”

The question goes in one of Yunho’s ears and out through the other, his eyes fixed on Hongjoong on the screen.

They throw themselves into practice more than they ever have to compensate, spending long evenings and even nights in their practice room on top of lessons and school, the little they go. And so, even for two weeks, the progress is noticeable. Whenever he looks at San and the slow but sure way his confidence can be seen in the dance they're learning, Yunho’s heart fills out so much he feels like it will burst with pride.

Episode 4 is where they practice their theme song; Yunho catches a glimpse of Hongjoong on the screen, practicing it, and he can tell there is determination in his eyes. And yet, he looks… tired. San’s hand grabs his, probably thinking of the same thing.

In Episode 5, they finally see Hongjoong, Jongho, and Wooyoung for real in their performances, and what they see takes their breath away.

They’re _good._ They’re so noticeably good, that Yunho feels pride in his chest unlike anything he’s felt before, seeing them on TV absolutely killing it. For the first time, he doesn’t doubt they’ll make it quite far. They might… they might even win, and for how conflicted Yunho feels at that thought, he’s as much proud. They would be blind to miss it, the entire country would.

In Episode 6, he finally sees Mingi too. It’s been a month and a half, and most of what they’ve seen were behind-the-scene things. But he looks _good._ He looks good and confident, just like Yunho thought he would, and he stands out effortlessly. Mingi’s charisma is unparalleled, and Yunho trusted him to do nothing but his best.

And even so, Episode 7 quickly goes downhill. Yunho is left speechless by the shock of red hair on Hongjoong, his heart quickening as he sees him. He did it to stand out. And stand out he does. He passes too, alongside Jongho, but barely, and for the rest maybe they all expected it a little bit, seeing their screentime and how they were treated. But even still, not even seeing Mingi’s face when he gets eliminated… it stabs a knife, dull and painful, through Yunho’s chest.

They keep quiet. There’s no point in saying anything, not when he’s coming back.

Later on, the smile on Wooyoung’s face… tells it all. The editing only drives it even closer, the expression on Jongho’s face as he waits for Wooyoung to pass.

_There’s no one._

The way he puffs his cheeks, the clear devastation on Jongho and Hongjoong’s faces. The sad lilt of Wooyoung’s tone as he tries to be positive like always, but his words aren’t.

Yunho feels a tear fall, and he thinks he’s not the only one.

Wooyoung launches himself to Yeosang first, who hugs him so tight his bones might break, and before soon, Mingi’s grey hair appears in the door. One second and he has his arms full of all 6’ of his best friend, his hands tightening in the back of Yunho’s shirt.

“You did so well,” Yunho whispers next to his ear, feels Mingi’s shoulders shake.

When he lets go, Wooyoung is in his arms next, wrapping his legs around Yunho’s waist. Yunho hoists him up with an _oomf,_ Wooyoung’s hair tickling his ear. “They were fools not to take you. There wasn’t anybody there better than you.”

Yunho holds on to Wooyoung’s back so he doesn’t drop him, and wonders how much more will this feeling in his chest grow when he sees them.

When they’re all unpacked and settled back in, and Wooyoung is off recounting the show to Seonghwa, Yeosang, and San, Mingi stops Yunho in the hall on his way to joining them.

“I was gonna go to the jjimjilbang tonight. Wanna join me?”

Yunho understands why Mingi likes going to the jjimjilbang so much. He forgets sometimes between visits, but remembers it right away when they go. Scrubbing your body of everything, every ounce of dead skin, also scrubs something clean in your mind. Like a new beginning for the week or the month or whatever time lays ahead, and when you walk out of the tub, refreshed and energized, not only your body but also your mind feel different.

Laying in the warm sauna after cleaning up, he sees Mingi’s contorted face on the bench next to his, and turns to him.

“How are you feeling?”

“It… it feels kinda weird.”

“Weird how?”

Mingi sighs, a long, drawn-out breath that Yunho understands.

“I didn’t want to really make it. You know none of us really did, right? But while you’re there, you can’t really help but work hard yanno? No matter what, it’s still a competition, and you still want to make a good impression. So… even if I don’t mind leaving, it still feels weird to not have made it. Like I failed.”

“You know it didn’t really have to do with you.”

“I know. But still, doesn’t feel better for now. Anyway, I’ll be over it," he shrugs, dismissive. "More than anything, I’m glad to be back.”

“I’m glad you’re back too.”

When they leave the empty sauna, heading to the sleeping room, Yunho pokes Mingi in the side right when they walk out the door. “Hey. Whatever you need. You know that, right?”

Yunho’s mind flashes to a few years before, a year before, a few months before, in the bathroom of this same jjimjilbang, in Yunho’s ridiculously small bed, in Mingi’s room if his parents weren’t home, and all the things he would do for his best friend if he asked.

Mingi squeezes his shoulder and grins. “Same.”

Two more weeks pass, and Episode 10 comes. Yunho still hasn’t gotten used to the shock of Hongjoong’s intense red hair on the screen, the way it makes him look… dangerous. Like a poisonous animal: if you touch him, you might get _hurt._ Yunho’s fingers tremble and he lets Wooyoung hold his hand and San attach himself to his arm as the elimination comes for Hongjoong and Jongho’s group.

_“What do we do? Out of the 6 remaining seats, I’ve announced 5.”_

Hongjoong and Jongho didn’t get announced yet. If they make it, only one of them will. Yunho doesn’t know what’s worse, hearing that Hongjoong’s hope is hanging on by a thread, or the possibility of him being the only one that makes it.

All of a sudden, YG talks about them, how they’re from the same company. Their living room is dead quiet, their breath tightly held in their chest, before _Kim Hongjoong, 42nd place, Eliminated_ flashes on their screen, and _Choi Jongho, 43rd place, Eliminated_ follows.

San and Wooyoung jump up so high they topple from the couch, taking Yunho to his knees with them. Nothing else matters but looking up at the two of them hugging the other contestants goodbye on the TV; it might be wishful thinking, but in the glimpses they show of them, Yunho doesn’t see any sadness in their eyes.

They’re coming _home._

Yunho is wildly unprepared for seeing Hongjoong’s red hair in person the next day, watching as the members crowd him and Jongho after not even stepping one foot in the apartment. Jongho comes to him first, pressing a bag in Yunho’s hands.

“I brought your games back.” _I brought them back._

Yunho ruffles Jongho’s hair and hugs him; unlike many other times, Jongho doesn’t protest. “You did well, Jongho-ya.”

Hongjoong comes to him last; as always, the awkwardness in the air between them is palpable.

“Did you practice while we were gone?” Hongjoong asks, looking up at Yunho with a scrunch of his eyebrows.

“We did. I think we all improved a lot.”

“I’m sorry we missed that,” Hongjoong nods, turns back around. Yunho opens his mouth, wanting to say something else.

“Maybe I cursed us. I wanted you all to lose.”

Hongjoong turns to him, expression confused, somehow maybe even angry. Yunho shrugs to show him that’s not what he meant. “When we had to watch Mingi and Wooyoung leave… that space of time between when they left and you two did… I think we were all praying. That you wouldn’t make it.”

“You did?”

“We all cheered when you were announced. San and Wooyoung screamed so hard my ears still hurt.”

Hongjoong lets out a sigh, his shoulders losing some of the tightly held tension in them.

“I did… I did too,” he admits, gaze to the floor. “I sat there and I prayed every day that none of us would make it. And then when we were the last ones and there was the possibility of only one of us making it… it felt awful.”

Yunho smiles at Hongjoong, silent, and watches as Hongjoong's eyes draw back up to his. “But you’re back, right? We would be good for nothing without a leader, so I’m glad you came back, hyung.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I've never taken dance lessons? I welcome any and all feedback on it, so feel free to hit me up if you have experience =)) <3


End file.
